The Creation Of
by Tusk Of Thyme
Summary: A series of events lead to Monroe and Burkhart to conclusions that neither can afford to risk admitting to the other because their value of each other is greater than risking it in the ring of romance-or can they be convinced otherwise? Manly Men doing Manly Things...maybe to each other. Lots of adult language becaussse...they're adultsss...
1. Lowens and Currency

**Based Heavily around events surrounding episodes Season 1 Ep 12 & 13.**

For full _awesome_ effect I suggest re-watching the episodes if need be. PM me if you need to know how :)

And let me know if you like this for me to continue it 3

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"God_damnit_, Monroe! You're not _listening_ to me!" Nick pleaded as he wrestled and clung to Monroe with everything the Grimm was worth, trying to talk some damned _sense_ into his friend. Monroe managed to swipe Nick's grip off of him and slam into him with a force that sent the Detective flying across the trailer into the weaponry chest across from where they had been fighting. It was one of the rare times Nick had ever witnessed Monroe raise his voice in anger.

"Naw, _fuck you_, man! You don't _know_ what the _fuck _you're _messing_ _with_ here!" The roar that Monroe had expressed his displeasure with was ear-shattering, any normal human would've taken that as an invitation to _get the hell out and never look back._

Regrettably, this was _not_ a normal person, bloody interfering Grimm _bastards_.

Nick charged at Monroe again, completely undeterred from the show of masculine and Blutbad fueled aggression his friend had displayed fully fanged and passionately. They twisted together in fight for dominance before Nick finally managed to clamp Monroe's face in between his hands and shook him, forcing the Blutbad to look deeply into the Grimm's piercing eyes.

"_Listen_ to me," Nick was soft and pleading, the sudden drop in tempo left Monroe shell-shocked and stunned as the cop touched their foreheads together, "I _know_, I understand, _truly_. But Monroe, you have to realize that where ever we find _monsters_, there too we find _heroes_…"

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_Much earlier..._

Monroe stood, panting, sweaty, feeling _alive_ with his veins coursing in endorphins from Pilates exercise. After a deep inhale and exhale he folded forward into his Yoga wind down routine to stretch out the tautness that formed in his muscles. He winced as he did, his body still ached from the thrashing he had faced in the Lowen's fight ring even though it had happened near a week ago.

_Nick_.

Nick had _saved_ him.

Technically, Nick was _responsible_ for the predicament Monroe had gotten into in the _first_ place. His head _still_ throbbed from that initial knock out that had been delivered before they had forced them into that stupid horse trailer. That was a night Monroe was eager to _**never**_ repeat.

But _Nick_ had saved _him_.

Monroe growled, tried to physically shake the thoughts from his mind that had been plaguing him ever since then. Nick, his smell, his form, his gait-the Blutbad had been fixated on him ever since that night. An act that preserved the life of another in the Blutbaden community was limited to _pack_ or _mate_ status. The arrival of such an action, delivered by the Grimm himself had reared a beast from within Monroe that was unfamiliar. When ever he thought of the blue-eyed, black haired Detective it reared it's head and threatened its release. Even if it turned out Nick was just pack, (highly doubtful from the arousal the image of Nick arose in Monroe's mind at night) the Grimm still needed to be marked, claimed as a part of something no one and nothing could ever tear him from. Intriguingly enough he hadn't _heard_ from the Grimm since that night and that was a little bruising to say the least. His day passed blandly until his phone woke him up at some _ungodly_ hour of night, interrupting him from a dream (yet pleasing him to no end) that involved exhilarating racing through the woods and chasing black haired prey.

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Meanwhile Nick was interrogating a suspect about the Zakynthos Coins when he learned something of acute interest.

"She was the sister of the woman I was in love with…when she heard her sister died, she left me…in order to raise her sister's son." _Aunt Marie. With a Wesen._ It _had_ to be. A Wesen and a Grimm…in love. And_ together_?! Was that really _possible_?…No, no…no way…the suspect that got away was a much more pressing issue but…an actual example of Wesen and _Grimm_ _relations_…it sent Nick's mind into a flurry of questions and possibilities. This needed to be researched.

Over the time since he had known Edward Monroe, Nick Burkhardt felt himself starting to notice things that a man _shouldn't_ be noticing on his _male _friends. Juliette's soft hands were there to greet Nick every night and he _liked_ it like that that; her chocolate eyes, fiery hair that was akin to her soul and a smile that often held a witty jibe-she was everything Nick could ever want, _shit_ he hadn't spent three moths salary on an engagement ring for her for no reason! Giving it to her was another matter-shut up, he was waiting for the opportune moment! Haven't you seen _Pirates of the Caribbean_? _Duh._ Nick wasn't a fool. (He hoped, anyway.)

Yet the Whiskey eyes of the gentle clock maker and repair man followed him as he closed his eyes every night. Ever since the seed of Grimm/Wesen _romantically_ _involved_ had been planted into Nick's mind, its subconscious desires wormed their ways into his dreams every night. This was some annoying Freudian shit Nick hadn't had to deal with since that scarring class he had to take on the subject in college. Was it possible-Nick jolted himself into the present moment steeling himself into the case as he clambered into his Aunt's trailer. As much as his love life pressed, he was a Cop first, a Grimm second and a man third-there was _work_ to do.

His steeled determination eroded immediately as he recognized the Wesen faces he was was dealing with-the explanations all in an archaic cursive Germanic script that he couldn't even _begin_ to translate. Every German word Nick knew came from the Tarantino movie _Inglorious Bastards_ and while there were a lot of _Actung!_ and _Nein!_ scribbled all over, it appeared the most useful information was still lost to him.

It was a bittersweet moment when Nick dialed Monroe's home phone at 2:30 in the morning.

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**A/N: **Oh hey guess what I'm kind of new to the fandom.

I feel like I committed treason (Is that why no one has left a review? Well shucks, thanks for telling me you guys :p)-it's just that last I looked on IMDB (an actor's Bible) Monroe had been listed as **'Eddie Monroe'** which I now know is **false**. Eddie hardly suited him anyway, it actually broke my heart a little when I saw that was apparently his name-so stoked it is legitimately Monroe-but this begs the question...is Monroe his first name or his last name and subsequently then what is the the other name too? Even on the Grimm Wiki his parents don't have a last name-WHAT *IS* THIS?! I mean are they related to _Madonna_ like...what the hell guys? Anyone else feel like this?


	2. Watching, Waiting, Commiserating

Nick waited anxiously in the trailer. He was staring at books taking none of the content in, only conscious of the fact that Monroe would be here any minute. This meeting wasn't on false pretenses, there was legitimate information Nick believe would benefit him locked away in German…it was just a bonus that this meant they got to spend time together in a small, intimate environment. Nick rolled his eyes at himself at how girlish he felt, _light some fucking candles to set the mood, why dontcha? Asshat._ He criticized himself still stuck staring at a meaningless page. The knocking at the door jolted his heart beat into his dry mouth, he couldn't help but swallow nervously as his heart accelerated, his hand ready to open the door.

Monroe.

He enveloped the doorway with his height as he crouched to enter, Nick just for a beat let their personal space collide before he sobered up, there was a crime to solve and as woodsy and musky Monroe smelt, Nick had to first spread his buttery justice for he had sworn Portland's toast would never go bare again! (He really needed to stop watching The Tick on late-night reruns.)

"If I'd spoken German, I wouldn't have called." He snapped, uncomfortable with the wave of tingles those damn dark whiskey eyes sent flooding through him. _Focus, Burkhardt. _Although he desperately tried to hide it, when Monroe snarked back with a thread of German, Nick's knee's buckled. He was forced to admit against his will that Monroe speaking German was the sexiest sound he had ever heard. _Please God, do it again-_Oh wait he could, Nick had asked him here _for that purpose_. "Go for it."

Nick hadn't anticipated on Monroe reading it _all out loud_. was that _really necessary?_ As Monroe continued, Nick thought, _yes, yes it was. _Nick just stared at him, the lamplight highlighting Monroe so that everything else was in the shade and Nick was truly struck by the Blutbad. The pensive and honest expression of each word delivered so delicately and directly that even though Nick didn't speak the language, Nick certainly _experienced_ the language and it was a blissful (cough_erotic_cough) moment in time.

The spell was broken as Monroe started explaining it in English and Nick felt nauseous with guilt. Juliette was only a few miles away and in a few minutes he'd be spooning against her -as he explained his current case to Monroe, their eye contact remained unbroken. Juliette had similar eyes but for some reason, Monroe's were all _that_ more intoxicating. All Nick knew was that if Monroe dared utter a nother sentence-nay _word_ in German, Nick may just lose control and that was just not acceptable. Monroe was his _mentor_, he _could not afford _to lose such a relationship. Without Monroe's help, Nick and his loved ones would've ended up dead _months ago_. It was too valuable a partnership and too valuable a _friendship_ to dare cross such an irreversible line. Nick would have to remind himself of why Juliette was his soulmate more often, that was all.

"It's funny you should mention that…" Monroe succumbed to the intensity of Nick's endlessly blue eyes. For the l_ove o_f-why _not_? Monroe had learned from Angelina's return that trying to suffocate the _wolf within_ was fruitless. Since then he had researched alternative methods and approaches when an old buddy had pointed him in the direction of Buddhism. So now he just let himself go and witnessed what thoughts arose, with a nose full of Nick's unwashed scent; sweat, oil, coffee and exhaustion. Monroe subconsciously wet his lips.

He absently nodded to Nick's story, throwing in a light attempt at levity that failed. Monroe drummed his fingers, plotting of ways that he could stay in this intimate setting just a little bit longer, he hadn't quite finished logging Burkhardt's scent away to memory yet for a rainy day (cough_tonight_coughcough). "Anything else you want me to translate?" The offer was hopeful but shut down politely by Nick before Monroe had even finished verbalizing the thought. Damn, _Stairway denied_ as they would say in Wayne's World.

To hide the disappointment that Monroe felt permeating to his face he turned away to find another excuse-lo and behold, an Akley Camera to the rescue! No, _seriously guys,_ this thing was swee_-aprojectorshutthefuckupsweetJesus!_

While Monroe was glad to be with Nick, Nick's _toys_ were now genuinely taking center stage. They were truly antiques from history-from _home_ most importantly, this was heritage! Besides, the awe in Nick's voice that Monroe was so _obviously_ educated made Monroe preen quietly and want more. As he started explaining how he knew everything Nick's face fell, slowly trailing down Monroe's body and landing comfortably at his groin-not that the Blutbad realized that, instead he took it as a cue to leave. While Nick wanted to protest, he knew he couldn't. There was work tomorrow morning, there was _Juliette tonight_. Monroe babbled unheard excuses as Nick watched him leave the trailer silently, mouth slightly ajar as he wondered what would happen if he _just fucking __**kissed**__ the Wesen. _It was a question left unanswered (and ignored) as his blue eyes followed Monroe's hunched back exiting the too small trailer frame.

After a lonely beat, the Detective picked up the camera that Monroe had fondled like a baby. Nick examined it-curious to to see what manipulative power it had over Monroe and curious if it had any Nick could steal for his own.

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**A/N: **I'm gonna level with ya. I was _pret-ty drunk_ when I wrote these chapters (hell, I'm hung over right now) & TxtEdit likes to pretend it can write too henceforth "fixing" my spelling errors. Also known as replacing errors with like the obscure _uncle_ of the word I was using. I _believe_ I got all of them but if there are any mistakes I missed, please let me know :) and I'm also incredibly curious to hear what you guys think thus far :D


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